


With You By My Side

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Meant to Be Yours [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, MTBY 2, OQ Happy Ending Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: For  #OQHappyEndingWeek, Friday / Day 5′s prompt was "cursed," so I decided to take the opportunity to share the first part of the sequel to Meant to Be Yours… which I’ve really missed writing.The sequel will focus on Regina dealing with the fall out of her curse and finding her happy ending–feeling accepted, forgiving herself, and comfortable in who she is–and, of course, like the original story, have lots of sweet family moments with Robin, Regina, Henry and Roland.





	With You By My Side

Regina lets out a shaky breath as she closes herself into her office, flattening her palm against the glass on the door. She pinches her eyes closed and reminds herself to breathe, tamping down the soft, rumbling rage that she can feel bubbling up inside of herself–and as she draws in a breath and slowly releases it, she reminds herself that she brought this all on herself.

For a month now, Storybrooke has been in a complete upheaval.

During the cursed years, she’d dealt with minor annoyances and small problems that arose here and there, every now and then there’d be a handful of spirited town halls meetings, but for the most part the job of governing in Storybrooke had been dull. No matter what she or anyone else did or said, it was always temporary, undone as the curse renewed and readjusted itself.

She told herself that it’d take time for things to settle and for people to adjust, but in a month’s time the situation had gone from bad to worse. She put herself in front of them as often as possible, doing her best to patiently answer questions she’d already answered a million times over and explaining why returning to the Enchanted Forest simply wasn’t an option, why they should trust her, what they could do to start their lives anew in Storybrooke, explaining the virtues of living in the modern world.

In a humbling gesture, at the end of the first week, she’d put out a notice from her office, returning the hearts she’d collected in her vault. Robin had stood beside her as she opened the boxes, watching as the hearts began to glow as she summoned their owners, offering a sincere apology as she shoved them back into waiting chests. By the end of that day, she’d been exhausted and emotionally spent, and when she turned to see some hearts unclaimed, she was hit with the realization of what that meant and a knot that still hadn’t loosened formed in her stomach. She’d looked away from them and Robin caught her by the chin, smiling warmly as he turned her to face him, reminding her that what was done was done and she could only do better moving forward.

At the end of each day, though, it didn’t seem to matter what she did or said, no matter how many times she explained herself and tried to make amends, it was never quite enough. She was stuck in a loop–apologizing again and again for the things she’d done, rationalizing them and explaining, promising to be better now.

Rumors spread that there’d been people the curse left behind–though, they were people no one could pin a name to–and rumors spread that the Queen had an ulterior motive. They fueled each other’s speculations and created conspiracies, and then that morning a petition arrived on her desk.

Nervously, her secretary had admitted she wasn’t sure who dropped it off, and she supposed it didn’t matter; instead, what mattered was the point of the petition, and the point was that she was no longer wanted.

She’d sat at her desk and carefully read what she’d long suspected–Storybrooke wasn’t the issue, she was. And that fall, she’d have a challenger for her spot as mayor. Her throat had tightened as she scanned the four pages of signatures that accompanied the petition. When she got to the end, she felt a rush of emotion that sat heavily on her chest. She couldn’t quite describe what she was feeling, but she didn’t like it, and it was oddly reminiscent of the way she’d felt in the earliest years of her marriage. It was a feeling she’d spent years trying to push away, and now it was back in full-force, but this time she could say that it was undeserved–and that only made it worse.

That was the feeling she took with her to that afternoon’s town hall meeting–and suddenly, even the simplest of questions felt like an attack.

She’d suffered through it, though, doing her best to keep her voice level and clam–but her face had given her away. Her jaw and shoulders were tense, and her hands had balled into fists beneath the table. She felt that familiar tingling at her fingertips as Midas rose up in the middle of the crowd.

All she could think of was the petition she’d read earlier, and though it wasn’t clear upon reading it, now that he was standing and speaking, it was clear that he’d been behind it–and she couldn’t help but fantasize about all of the ways she could shut him up.

But, of course, that would only prove his point.

So, she’d sat there, listening and pretending to be patient as he explained that if the Enchanted Forest wasn’t an option, Storybrooke should be split apart into sections, giving each former ruler jurisdiction over “their land” and “their people.” She’d attempted to point out that it wasn’t that simple, Storybrooke wasn’t laid out the way the Enchanted Forest was and because everyone was scattered around the town, drawing those lines wouldn’t be easy–but he’d balked at her “excuses” and told the crowd she was merely trying to keep power for herself.

Then, he’d announced his intentions to run against her–reminding everyone she was never a chosen ruler and that she’d come to power by murdering a good man to whom she’d been married. He reminded them of how they feared her torment, how she’d put personal vendettas ahead of their well-being, and how she’d uprooted their lives and stolen their fates.

She hadn’t had the chance to refute it–and really, how could she?

None of what he said was untrue and even she had to admit, they didn’t have a reason to trust her.

The meeting adjourned and she’d gone out of the back exit, not wading through the crowd–and as she stood alone in her office, she was finally able to let out her emotion. She let hot tears roll down her cheeks as she ranted and raved in the empty room, and when she felt magic tingling at the tips of her fingers, she didn’t stop it, setting the petition ablaze.

Then, she caught a glimpse of the image she kept in a frame on the corner of her desk–and a slight smile edged onto her lips as she looked at the picture of Robin and the boys. Henry and Roland were each sitting on his knee, smiling widely as he held the camera out in front of them and smiled just as wide. She remembers the way her heart fluttered when she’d opened up the image on her phone, with the words “Miss you!” beneath it in the little gray text bubble.

Reaching for the picture, she held it in her hands, looking down at it as she traced her finger over Henry, reminding herself to relax and reminding herself that she didn’t want him to see her this way. She released a breath as she returned the picture back to its place and reached for her purse beneath the desk, drawing it up over her shoulder as she forced her thoughts away from the petition and the town hall and toward Robin and the boys, waiting for her at Robin’s cabin–and she reminded herself that this was why she’d scheduled each and every town hall meeting on a Tuesday night…

It wasn’t long before she was standing in front of the counter at Mushu’s, their favorite Chinese restaurant, waiting for their usual takeout order–giggling softly to herself as she considered whether or not she’d be able to successfully get Roland to try her seafood soup. She ordered a few extra almond cookies–bribing him with sweets generally proved successful, and a few minutes later, she was walking to her car with bags filled with paper cartons of soups, fried rice, lo mein and egg rolls–and of course the almond cookies.

Typically, on Tuesday nights, they stayed in and made something of the boys’ choosing. Roland and Henry took turns picking out recipes to try. They picked out movies and games, and made a night of it–and she found that regardless of whatever else that happened on those days, Tuesdays were always her favorites.

No matter what was going on, Tuesday nights were always a reprieve, their dinners were a happy and welcomed escape.

She turned her key in the ignition, and as she shifted her car into reverse, she felt a small smile pulling onto her lips as her shoulders relaxed a little at the thought of Tuesday night dinners becoming more like every night dinners. Of course, Tuesdays would still be different than the other nights, but other nights would share some of her favorite elements of Tuesdays–those elements being Robin and the boys, and the ease that being with them brought to her.

The following morning, Robin and Roland were officially moving in.

Slowly but surely, they’d spent an increasing amount of time together, and after the curse broke a month before, Robin had been continually at her side–and though she hated to admit that she needed anyone, she’s not quite sure how she’d have handled the last month without his love and support.

Rubbing her thumb against her engagement ring, she draws in a breath and turns down the long dirt road that leads to Robin’s cabin, pushing away all thoughts of Midas, the town hall meeting, and all of the things she couldn’t control.

_____

Regina is barely through the door before Roland comes bounding toward her, calling out her name over and over again while waving what looks like a DVD. She laughs as Robin trots out of the bedroom behind him, scooping him up and twisting him upside down, tickling his exposed stomach. Grinning, she rounds the corner into the kitchen, careful to keep an eye on them from across the island counter that separates the rooms. She sets down the take out and pushes a box out of the way to make room for her purse, and Robin reminds Roland that bombarding people–no matter how excited he was to see them–was almost always a little rude, reminding him that Regina had had a long day and had barely even made it through the door.

Robin flips Roland back upright and tucks him under his arm as he joins her in the kitchen, and Roland giggles his way through an apology as Robin pecks her lips.

“How’d it go?” he asks as she stoops to kiss Roland’s cheek. “You’re a bit later than anticipated.”

“I’d… rather not discuss it,” she admits as she pulls Roland from his arms, smiling as he wraps his legs around her hips and links his arms around her neck. “Especially not when there are so many other things to discuss.” She rubs her nose against Roland’s and he giggles again as Robin starts to remove the cartons of food from the bags. “What were you going to show me?”

“Hercules!”

“Hercules…”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Daddy got it for us when we were shopping.”

Her brow arches. “You… bought Roland a movie that he already has?”

Robin sighs as he looks back at her. “It was the easiest option.”

“Where’s Henry, by the way?”

“Actually helping,” Robin replies as he shoots a look at Roland. “He’s in my bedroom, helping pack.” A grin curls onto his lips. “Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

A soft chuckle escapes him as he nods. “I… made a math problem out of it.”

“Out of your socks.” Robin nods again, and she finds herself chuckling, too. “He must be thrilled.”

“Why don’t you go and free him?”

Nodding, she sets Roland down on the counter beside the food, and she laughs softly as she hears Roland declare he will not be eating whatever it is in the first carton that Robin opened. She rounds the corner to the back bedroom, smiling as she spots Henry on the bed, staring down at rows of socks.

“Robin gave me a story problem,” he tells her, not looking up as he focuses on the socks, holding up a yellow post-it note for her to see. “I’m stuck.”

She sits down on the edge of the bed opposite him and takes the post-it, reading it carefully as she looks to the socks–and then her own brow crumples, matching her son’s. “Oh…”

“I can’t box them up until I figure it out,” Henry explains as his eyes shift up to hers. “It’s summer. Why do I have to do math?”

Shaking her head, she sighs, remembering an article Robin had read to her about “summer brain drain” and how kids with learning disabilities were always set back at the start of the school year because they were out of practice. It perpetuated a sense of defeatedness and failure, the article said, and by the end of it, he’d decided that wouldn’t be happening to Henry.

Almost daily, he brought Henry into his shop, letting him run the cash register and teaching him to tag sale items, helping him to make coffee and measure things for the displays for the front window. Robin made it as fun as he could, and most of the time, Henry agreed that it was. Roland parroted Henry’s enthusiasm–and sometimes lack thereof–following him around the store and “helping” with whatever tasks he was allowed.

“So, maybe it’s time for a break,” Regina suggests, reaching out and brushing his hair away from his eyes. “I think you need a trim.”

Henry scrunches his nose and shakes his head, forcing his hair out off of his brow. “What’s for dinner? Robin just said take-out.”

“Chinese.”

Henry brightens. “From Mushu’s?”

“Yep, I got lo mein with–”

“Extra bean sprouts?”

Regina nods. “And I grabbed about fifty packets of soy sauce.”

“Yesss,” Henry hisses excitedly as he rolls off the bed, dropping down the post-it note on top of Robin’s socks. “Did you get egg rolls, too?”

“Of course,” she says, rising up and draping an arm around Henry. “And soups.”

“Soups? Like… more than one?”

“Wonton and seafood.”

“Fish?” Henry asks, looking up at her as they make their way into the hallway. “You’re gonna make Roland eat it, aren’t you?”

A grin pulls onto her lips. “Yeah. I even got extra cookies to bribe him with.”

Henry giggles as they reach the living room and as they turn into the kitchen, she pulls him back against her legs, bending as he presses a kiss to the top of her head–and then a moment later, he wiggles free, leaning up onto the tips of his toes, as he peers over the counter, watching as Robin starts to plate their food.

She feels a fleeting twinge of annoyance as she catches a glimpse of gold print on the carton’s label, and she thinks of Midas. Her jaw tightens and her shoulders tense, and as she rolls her neck, Robin turns to look at her.

“You okay?”

She nods as his brow arches, unconvinced.

“You… suddenly don’t look okay.” Henry and Roland both turn to look at her, and she musters a smile and a tight nod. “Hey,” Robin murmurs, looking away from her as his eyes shift between the boys. “You two need to wash up before you eat.”

“But–”

Robin blinks as he looks pointedly at Roland, but Henry is the one who replies, tugging softly at Roland’s pant leg. “Come on,” he says. “The sooner we wash our hands, the sooner we can eat and I am starving.”

Regina watches as Roland hops down off of the counter and he and Henry run off to the bathroom at the end of the hall next to Roland’s bedroom. Her eyes shift to Robin and he waits until the water in the bathroom starts to run, and then he turns to her.

“You’re upset.”

“No, it’s just… a momentary…”

“You’re upset,” he says again–and this time, she nods. “What happened?”

She hesitates for a moment as her eyes roll. “Midas.”

“Midas,” he repeats as she nods. “You’re… going to have to give me a little more than that.”

“He’s running against me.”

“For mayor?”

Again, her eyes roll. “No, in a marathon.” Robin sighs and she grimaces. “I’m sorry. I–”

“You’re upset.”

“I am.”

Robin nods, closing the distance between them and pulling her into a hug. Her eyes close. and her arms wrap around him as her head falls to his shoulder. “He has all these… ideas and… everyone clapped and…”

“Not everyone attends those meetings, Regina,” he says, pulling back to look at her. “You know that.”

“I know.”

“I should have gone.”

“You have a lot to do,” she says, motioning toward the stacks of boxes spread across the living room. “You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Support,” he corrects.

“Is there a difference?” This time, it’s Robin who rolls his eyes. “Who knows? Maybe this is all for nothing.”

“This?”

“Moving.”

Robin’s head tips to the side as his brow furrows. “You don’t want to move in together?”

“No, I do,” she says, sighing as her head falls back. “It’s just I don’t know that you should be the one moving.”

“So, you think that you should move…here?”

Shrugging, she lifts her head and looks back to him. “Well, I can’t live in the Mayor’s Mansion if I’m not the mayor.”

At that, Robin’s eyes narrow. “You’re not usually such a defeatist.”

“Aren’t I?”

“No,” he says, his voice filled with a confidence that in another situation might be reassuring. “You’re a fighter– you’re notoriously a fighter–and you’ve never given up when you’ve faced a challenge, even if you were totally and completely, one-hundred percent wrong.” His fingers press into her hip as his grin grows coy. “I mean, after all, you did curse an entire population…”

Her brow arches and a little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth as his voice trail off. “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” she tells him. “Because if you weren’t, there is a very good chance you’d be a pile of ash right now.”

“You wouldn’t,” he teases.

“Wouldn’t I?” she counters. “Given the way I’m feeling about all of this.”

Robin laughs as he shakes his head. “You love me too much to do that.”

She sighs and nods. “Like I said, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Well–”

“We’re all washed up,” Henry announces as he and Roland cross the living room, “and we’re ready to eat!”

Robin pulls her back to him, pressing as kiss to her forehead. “We’re not done with this, though.”

“We have to be–”

“For now,” he agrees, turning away from her as the boys round the corner into the kitchen–and her heart flutters as he scoops each of them up in his arms, pressing quick kisses to each of their cheeks before setting them down on the counter and preparing their plates, giving them each extra helpings of the vegetables and promising the cookies only in return for cleaned plates.

And as she watches them, she can’t help but be glad for them.

_____

Roland’s room is packed, so the sofa bed is pulled out and covered in a Superman bedsheet. Henry and Roland are sprawled out on top of them and Hercules is nearly three quarters of the way done–and the boys have been asleep for the better part of a half an hour.

“So, explain to me,” Robin begins, leaning in and whispering in her ear. “Why are we still watching this if they’re still asleep.”

“Oh, that’s because if we’re watching this,” she replies, “I don’t have to talk about… the other thing.”

“Midas–”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he murmurs. “Okay, as long as there’s a good reason to watch this terrible movie.”

“You don’t like this one?”

“I can’t stand this one,” he admits. “But it’s better than–”

“Robin Hood?” she asks, giggling softly.

“Yes,” he sighs, a hint of bitterness behind his short reply.

“So, you must be so relieved that Roland now has two copies of this movie.”

“It was either buy the second copy or let him unpack all of the–”

“That’s why you should’ve labeled the boxes,” she cuts in. “Like I suggested.”

“That wouldn’t have helped,” he sighs. “I… might’ve lost the other copy.”

“Lost,” she repeats, shaking her head. “Sure.”

“I felt bad about it, so–”

“So you let him get another copy.”

Robin nods, sighing as he looks beyond her. “I’m still not done packing up the bedroom.”

“I can help with–”

“Magic?” he asks, looking back to her with hopeful, and even expectant, eyes. “This whole moving process could go smoother with magic, you know.”

“I know,” she admits, wrinkling her nose. “But I… I don’t want to abuse it.” She sighs as she looks down at Henry, sleeping with his head in her lap. “I… always relied on it to solve any problem that I faced and… and it was addictive and… it wasn’t always that way. It’s a slippery slope and… I don’t…” She sighs, her eyes pressing closed momentarily before looking back to him. “Sorry.”

“Understandable and no need to apologize.” Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “And even appreciated. I’ve never been one who envied or even appreciated magic.”

Her head falls to his shoulder, and for a moment, they watch the movie that neither of them are really interested in watching.

In some ways, the comfortable silence is nice though.

Still, she’s not entirely used to that–to being comfortable in silence, be it with someone else or on her own–but she think she likes it, even if it does make her a little bit nervous. She cuddles in a little closer to Robin as she combs her fingers through Henry’s hair, reminding herself that quiet doesn’t have to be a calm before a storm, it can just be calm–but as soon as she gives herself that reminder, thoughts of Midas return to her.

For so long, she’d convinced herself that she didn’t care about Storybrooke, much less its residents. But the truth was that she did care–she always had–and this was her second second chance.

She hated how much she loved Storybrooke and all its eccentricities, and though once upon a time, she’d been a reluctant queen, she enjoyed being mayor. It’d been a realization she’d come to slowly within the last year, and it took her even longer to realize that her feelings about the town extended beyond wanting to give Henry a happy childhood in a nice little small town–and ever so reluctantly, she came to understand that she cared about the people who lived here.

Of course, she had years and years of memories with all of them. She’d watched them grow and adapt, and turn Storybooke into a quaint little town that she was proud to lead. The curse had only done so much–they’d done the rest. But they didn’t see that now and they didn’t see her appreciation for it, and no matter what she did or said, no matter how she tried to make it up to them or tried to make amends, they only saw her as the Evil Queen.

Their memories of the cursed years were overwhelming and hazy, blending together and hard to parse apart–and of course, her feelings were the least of their concerns. She knew that and she understood that she was a convenient–and even deserving–punching bag for their frustrations. She didn’t have a right to feel hurt by their rejection–but she was–and as much as she hated to admit it, seeing them favor someone like Midas stung. Of course, for all his faults, he’d never burned a village because he’d been pissed off or ripped out anyone’s heart because they’d said something kind about his enemies, but he’d always been more interested in wealth and power than the common good. He’d let his people starve and sent them on crusades that’d practically been a death march, all so he could accumulate and collect fancy, shiny things from far off lands–and when she considered that, he wasn’t any better than her. At least, it’d been relatively easy to stay out of her way.

“I hate his stupid blue hair,” Robin mutters beneath his breath as Hades comes onto the screen–and Regina’s eyes widen as she looks to him. “Oh… did I say that out loud?”

“You did,” she says, her brow arching. “And so venomously.”

“I don’t like him.”

“He’s a Disney villain.”

“Exactly.”

A little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “Well, you love me, and isn’t that what I am?”

A little chuckle escapes him as he reaches over her, pressing a kiss to her hair as he grabs the remote and turns off the movie. “You look tired.”

“I am,” she admits. “It was… a long day.”

“Still don’t want to talk about it?” She shrugs, considering it. “It might make you feel better.”

“There’s… just not much to say.”

Robin’s eyes narrow, and momentarily, his eyes fall to Roland. She grins as Robin eases Roland off of his lap and settles him on the empty spot of bed beside him, covering him up and sweeping his messy curls away from his forehead before turning his attention to her. “Can I ask you something, then?”

She nods. “Okay…”

“Do you want to be mayor?” His voice is calm and his gaze expressionless–and when she hesitates, biting down on her bottom lip, he shrugs. “I only ask because the last month has been grueling, and this isn’t something you necessarily chose to–”

“I do,” she cuts in, answering. “I want to be mayor.”

“It’s not just… something you’re doing because it’s what you’ve always done?”

“Well, that’s… part of it, I suppose,” she tells him, considering it. “It’s a part of who I am.”

He nods, his face and voice still even. “So, it’s not just your sense of obligation or guilt or–” A grin tugs onto his lips. “Or desire to be in control of… well, everything.”

Her eyes narrow. “I think that’s all a part of wanting to be mayor, but it’s… a small part, I think.” Robin nods. “I don’t think I realized just how small a part it was until today, when someone threatened to take it away from me,” she says. “The job has… had its moments, but I like it and–”

“Then, that’s it,” Robin says simply. “You’ll run.”

“What?”

“A campaign,” he tells her. “If Midas wants to run against you, so be it. Let him, and give him a run for his money.”

She nods, and her stomach flutters as she looks away from him, momentarily focusing down on Henry, still combing her fingers through his hair. “And… what if they don’t want me?” she asks, slowly casting her eyes back up to meet his. “What if they… choose Midas?”

“Then… you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it,” he tells her as he looks down at Henry. “Life has a way of working out as it’s supposed to.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, a grin pulling onto her lips as her eyes fall to Henry. “That’s true.”

“And, though I can’t know the minds and hearts of Storybrooke, I can’t see them choosing Midas over you.”

“You underestimate their hate and–”

“They don’t know you, Regina, and they’re… frustrated.”

“I know, but–”

“Maybe you should switch tactics.”

At that, her brow arches. “Tactics?”

He nods, “Remind them.”

“I won because of a curse.”

“There were elections, though,” he tells her. “I voted.”

“I was running unopposed and had a clear leg up on the competition because–”

“It wasn’t the curse,” he tells her, grinning softly. “I mean, it was, in part, but it was also you.” Her eyes roll, but he reaches out and gives her hand a little squeeze, forcing her eyes back to him. “I spent a lot of time observing you and trying to work up the nerve to talk to you,” he begins, his grin brightening as a soft smile edges onto her lips. “You were a good mayor–you are a good mayor. You were always involved and doing things to better the community. People liked you, Regina. They’re just… a little mad at you right now.”

“I’ve been putting myself in front of them for weeks, trying to explain–”

“And it’s not working.”

“No…”

“Then, shift gears. Try something different.” Again, he gives her hand a little squeeze. “Remind them of the mayor you’ve been all these years.” Nodding, she draws in a shaky breath–and before she can reply, Robin cuts back in. “If you’re about to argue that point, I’ll kindly remind you that you are your own worst critic and a faulty narrator of your own story.”

“I’m not sure that you’re exactly unbiased.”

“I am absolutely biased,” he admits with a laugh. “And as your campaign manager, I should be.”

Her brows arch. “Campaign manager.”

“Yes,” he replies, nodding as a little laugh escapes him. “At your service, M’lady.”

Biting down on her lip, she shakes her head and stifles a laugh. “Are you?”

“I am,” he nods. “You’ve just hired me.”

“Have I?”

“Mhm, you have,” he tells her. “And aside from singing your praises, I can offer up my cabin as a campaign headquarters and–”

“I thought you were going to rent it.”

He shrugs. “I’m not worried about that,” he says easily. “Besides, if I’m hanging onto this place for a bit longer, I don’t have to worry about packing up and that is an amazing relief.”

She offers a dry laugh. “And if I lose, we can always move in here.”

Robin’s eyes roll as he lets out a sigh, hooking his arm around her shoulders and tugging her to his chest. “Back to that, hm?” She sighs in response as his hand rubs over her arm. “You know, if this last year has taught me anything its–”

“That you’re much more forgiving than the average person?”

Again his eyes roll as she peers up at him. “No,” he says, his voice curt yet playful. “It’s that home isn’t a place. It’s about feeling loved and secure.”

“That’s… a really nice thought, and up until recently that house was just a place I slept, but then…”

“Henry came into your life,” he supplies for her as her voice begins to fade out.

She nods. “Then you and Roland.”

“And no matter what happens, you’ll always have us, and the memories you made in that house, you’ll take with you wherever you go.” He stops a bit abruptly as his eyes narrow. “But between you and me, even if for some reason you did lose the election and Midas does become mayor, I can’t see him leaving that eyesore he’s currently living in. He thinks it’s the Taj Mahal.” She giggles. “He’d see it as a step down.”

“That’s… a fair point,” she murmurs, nodding as she considers it. “Because moving is a bitch.”

“You’re telling me,” Robin sighs, rolling his eyes as his head falls back. “I don’t even know what’s in–” He stops as her eyes widen, and he laughs as she pulls back, swatting playfully at his arm. “I told you you needed to label these boxes.”

“I really, truly thought at some point, you’d get frustrated and give your wrist a little flick and magically all of my things would just appear in their proper places.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” she asks, tipping up her chin a bit, feigning indignance.

“You think hauling heavy boxes is fun?”

“No,” she admits, as a little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “But I think watching you haul boxes will be incredibly enjoyable for me.”

Once more, Robin’s eyes roll as a giggle escapes her. He pulls her back to him and presses a kiss to her forehead, laughing softly as his hold on her loosens. “Are you about ready for bed?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, shifting herself away from him and lifting Henry’s head from her lap.

Robin gets up and grabs one of the blankets from a stack on the chair and hands it to her as she twists Henry around on the sofa bed, so that he’s laying in a somewhat normal position. She tucks a pillow under his head and takes the blanket he offers her, folding it around Henry as she leans in and presses a kiss to his temple. She hovers for a moment, breathing him in as she tells him that she loves him. She kisses her fingers as she leans in over Henry, gently pressing her fingers to Roland’s cheek as Robin reaches for her hand, and as his arm slips around her waist, turning her toward the bedroom, she reminds herself that she already has everything she needs.


End file.
